The Rum Diaries
by cwthewolf
Summary: The tales of a disgruntled exservant trying to survive in a world gone mad. Please review. Final Fantasy VI.


The Rum Diaries:

She wasn't quite sure whether the pain was from the hangover or the fact that she had just smashed her head onto the top of the shed. Either way, the light pouring in from the recently opened door wasn't helping. "HEY! I said get the hell out!"

Her head titled upwards and glanced at the silhouette of what appeared to be an extremely angry farmer that was very close to shoving that pitchfork into her severely overworked kidney. "Well! What the hell are you standing around and gawking for?"

The unwanted guest made a grab for her sack and slowly slipped by him as she let herself out. His labored breathing made it very clear that he was very tempted to strangle the spectacled wench. If her head didn't feel like it had been smashed with a lead brick and then dumped in a barrel of hydrochloric acid, she would have cracked up at his facial expressions. These northern farmers were so uptight nowadays….

As she made her way towards the road she turned back towards the small hut. "Well thanks for the booze anyway!" A couple coins flung out of her hand as she chucked them back towards the farm. "Sorry about the table…and the goat" She cringed as the coins tinkled as they hit the ground. " I need to do something about this damn hangover."

It was a nice day out. That was all that could be said about it. To many people the plains that were between the frozen city of Narshe and the desert oasis of Figaro were one of the most gorgeous places on earth. The golden waves of wheat and the simplicity of the peasants had captured the hearts and minds of artists and nobles with too much spare time everywhere. Snes didn't understand what people found so interesting about wheat fields. She had grown up in a village right next to the Figaro and Narshe border and could never understand why people would want a picture of some complete stranger harvesting wheat in their Salons. In her mind it was the equivalent of her buying a painting of an accountant doing tax returns.

She grabbed the compass out of her pocket and waited till it pointed north. "Well at least Kefka didn't fuck that up."

The flask that was poking out of her jacket was starting to look tempting to her, but she pushed the thought out of her mind. It wasn't so much that she enjoyed drinking or that she had an emotional dependence on alcohol. It's just that when your world has been ruined by a lunatic who wears more makeup than a desperate prostitute, your king has gone missing, and your not sure whether your family is alive or dead; a drink starts to look really good.

She was almost positive that she was going the right way towards her home village. At the time of what was now called the "reckoning" she was out dropping off some weaponry from the castle to one of the tribes. When she came back there were nothing but sand and a very confused looking chicken. So she figured either Kefka got to them or they went underground. Either way, she wasn't getting back inside the Castle anytime soon. So she decided to go check on the mortality situation of her parents. From what she had seen so far it appeared that Kefka, or as she liked to call him "General Douche bag", had left the farmers of this area alone and their was a chance her parents might still be breathing. Apparently, only the rich city dwellers were worth his time and destructive wrath. Elitist pig. In her mind, a significant part of the bourgeoisie deserved what was coming to them. Right before the Reckoning, the centuries old feudalism of the world had started to turn into an abusive form of mass industrialization that bit the ass of every poor person that had the sorry fortune of working in a factory. Of course, the factories were gone now. And the rich had either been fried to death in Kefka's mass genocide against largely populated cities or had fled for their lives. But still, after being a servant in Figaro Castle and having to cater to the spoiled and fat, one gets bitter. However, she never really minded King Edgar. Many of the maids found his advances on them to be out of place and indecent. She found them hilarious. Instead of blushing or gently turning down his advances on her, Snes took it to the next level.

Snes chuckled as she remembered the Macaroni incident. It was a royal banquet in honor of some stuffed shirt. She was pouring some wine for the big guy when he complemented her eyes and said he would like to see more of her. 'Well I've got to warn you your majesty, I'm into some pretty kinky stuff.' After he inquired as to what she meant, she picked up a piece of macaroni from the table and well…. I'm pretty sure a certain Baron's having nightmares about "crushing spices."

And then something shot her out of her reminiscing. "…HOW?!"

To be continued…

Any thoughts, opinions, and constructive criticism is appreciated. Thank you.  



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